Free The Intersection of Purgatory and Paradise by A.J. Thomas Page A

he said. “Otherwise, it’ll just wash off.”
    “Fine.” Christopher kicked off his shorts and stepped into the stall.
    Doug took off the rest of his clothes and climbed in behind Christopher. He was careful to keep his hands down near Christopher’s hips, away from the burns. Christopher had gained weight over the last year. Backing off on his running had allowed him to build a dense upper body that never failed to leave Doug so hard it hurt to look at him. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, rubbing his thumbs over Christopher’s hips and upper thighs.
    Christopher stepped away from him, into the spray. “You’re biased.”
    Doug followed him, sliding against him like he always did. Christopher fit against him so perfectly, like he’d been made just for him, and it hurt to imagine this might be his last chance to feel so close to him.
    “Can we….” Doug swallowed hard. “Can we switch this time?”
    Christopher stiffened against him, his hands frozen in the middle of rinsing the dried salt and sand from his chest. “I’d rather you fuck me.”
    Doug licked his neck, where he still tasted like the beach. “Please?” he whispered. “Switch with me this time?” Since it might be their last time.
    “I told you, I won’t do it again. Not until you’re ready to talk about why it freaks you out.”
    Doug remembered the quiet promise Christopher had made to him after they first met. Doug never wanted to talk about his disastrous first relationship, and Christopher had never tried to top him again. Even when Doug had asked him to.
    “His name was Leon,” he said before he could let his memories and fear drown out the name. “I’d been in Miami for a year, and I’d just gotten a transfer to the vice squad—homicide, narcotics, all of it. We met in a club one night when he asked me to dance. Dancing wasn’t like dancing with him; it was like fucking with our clothes on. It was so hot, a few minutes later we were fucking in the bathroom. After, we shared some drinks, and I told him I’d started working with the Sheriff’s Department. He didn’t seem surprised. Looking back, I think that should have clued me in that something wasn’t right. But I was young, and I wanted him so much. We moved in together about two weeks later.”
    “What happened?”
    “He was a drug dealer. He had some friends in the Sheriff’s Department, and they told him I was one of the new guys who’d be working narcotics in Miami Beach. For months, he told me he smoked a little pot, just gave some to his friends, that it was harmless. But over time things started to add up. Every time I got called in for a raid, we never found anything. When I went undercover, it was always dull. He was keeping track of my schedule, keeping track of when we mobilized and the areas we were canvasing. When I finally realized he was using me so he wouldn’t get busted for selling meth, I tried to tell him we were done.”
    “Tried?”
    Doug buried his nose in Christopher’s hair and took a deep breath, letting the lingering smell of salt calm him down. “I tried. He told me if I walked out, if I didn’t do exactly what he said, he’d go to the FBI and my supervisor and tell them everything I’d been an accessory to—the list included everything from prostitution to homicide.”
    “Homicide?”
    “It took catching him putting my Beretta back into my duty belt for me to wake up. And then I was such a coward, I did what he said. He was only holding my career hostage, but it still scared the fuck out of me. Maybe I was too proud to admit how badly I’d screwed things up. I don’t know. For over a month, I did what he said. I let him fuck me, beat the shit out of me, even tie me up a few times. At first, he got a kick out of the fact that he could still make me get off during sex. I know how Stockholm syndrome it must sound, but I did get off on it most of the time. I usually threw up afterward, but….” Doug shuddered as he